Tag: healing

One remedy

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

Ahhhhh….I woke up from a restful sleep this morning and said to my husband, “It’s amazing what we take for granted, until we don’t have it for a couple of days.” I was, of course, referring to a good night’s sleep. And, I must say, it was lovely.

But then I did my usual routine of checking Facebook, email, and messages to find that once again there was an officer-involved shooting in St. Louis last night, and once again, it was racially charged.

I take living in a peaceful community for granted. I am very insulated at the moment. When I was in college, way back in the 80s, we called it ‘the Concordia bubble’.  It’s nice and shiny in here, guys. I have mentioned, ad nauseum, the river, the deer, blah, blah, blah.  We live in virtual peace with God and man inside this little bubble. When we drive down to little Gallup Park, we walk alongside people of a variety of backgrounds all smiling and nodding at one another. We pick up our messes and leave the park how we found it.  It’s eerily Utopian. When I go out for lunches, all the ladies play nice, smile, laugh, share… I don’t really experience conflict.

Yeah, it’s weird.

I mean just three months ago, I was living in the heart of pre-Ferguson St. Louis. I won’t say I experienced conflict at all. Actually I lived in my racially mixed neighborhood in relative peace. We exchanged pleasantries with neighbors, moved among people from countless backgrounds, and had very few bumps of any kind. But the tension was there to be sure. It runs like an electrical current under all of St. Louis. It would be naive to say that I was unaware. Centuries of history have bred mistrust and anger among the people in St. Louis and the electricity is tangible.

It was just a matter of time before a spark ignited the explosive emotions that people can barely keep in check. And I have to believe that that is the reason that Ferguson is not over and forgotten. Everyone there knows that the divide between blacks and whites exists. And now that the current of suspicion and hatred has been exposed, the citizens want to make sure it stays in the open. I mean, seriously, grown adults are making public statements at Cardinals games — hurtful statements in a nation-wide arena where the whole country will see. “Notice us, America, we are hurting over here and we don’t know what to do about it!”

And how is anyone, inside or outside of St. Louis, supposed to see the actual truth when years of emotion are clouding the issues? I am not able, from this distance, inside this skin, to tell you what is happening — who is right, who is wrong — but I am able to tell you that these people are hurting. They’ve been hurting for a very long time.

I would love to say that the courts will sort it all out.  But the courts are made up of humans and the courts in St. Louis are made up of hurting St. Louis humans. It’s gonna be difficult for anyone to get a fair and impartial trial at a time like this.

And really, is one trial going to solve the hurts of centuries of conflict? Would one hundred trials solve the hurts?  a thousand?

After all, no one, really, is innocent. We all have sinned. We all fall short of the glory of God. But, He has promised…”If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (I John 1:9).

It’s the only remedy that exists. And in order for it to work, everyone will have to put down their weapons, admit they’ve been wrong, and trust in something larger than themselves.  Then conversations can start and healing can begin.

be still, there is a healer

His love is deeper than the sea

His mercy is unfailing

His arms are a fortress for the weak.

Let faith arise…

–Chris Tomlin

Exceptionally Late

~ Kristin ~ 2 Comments

There’s an exception to every rule.

If you have been following this blog you know that for several weeks I have made it my business to roll out of bed, make a cup of tea, have my Bible study, and get busy on this blog.  Up until today the only real exceptions were when I was out of town.

But, today happened.

As a result of feeling like I was run over by a truck earlier this week, I have been having difficulty sleeping.  Which means I am having difficulty waking.  This would not be a problem on any other day, but unless I am physically unable to walk, on Wednesday mornings at 9:30, I am going to be at my Bible study.  This morning I dragged myself out of bed at 7:45, moaned my way to the shower, got dressed and drove to my pre-Bible study coffee shop for the cup of delicious caffeine that would keep me engaged for the next two hours.  I am really glad I made it to Bible study. These ladies are becoming very dear to me.  I am sure they will appear again in this blog, they are teaching me so much.

After Bible study, I met a friend from our former life in Michigan for, you guessed it, lunch.  Isn’t it amazing that ten years can pass and you can hug and share as though you haven’t missed a day?  I know I have written about so many of these encounters, but I am still surprised when they happen, and I keep pinching myself to see if my life right now is real.

I wouldn’t let myself go home until I had exchanged books at the library and gone to the gym.  I wasn’t silly enough to think that I could do 30 minutes on the elliptical, 15 minutes of weightlifting, and time in the pool, but I knew that if I spent just 30 minutes in the pool, my body would thank me.  I was right.  Being in the water erases my pain and even my fatigue.  I am not sure why that works, but it is lovely.

I drove myself home, plunked myself on the couch, and have been there ever since.  After dinner with my dear husband, I will begin the decline into what I hope will be a restful night’s sleep.  The last two nights I was exhausted and was sure that sleep would come quickly, but ended up awake into the wee hours.

I am happy to report that in my exceptionally late nights, I have had the company of Jodi Picoult’s The Storyteller (which I highly recommend) and a few night-owls who play Words With Friends at all hours.  I haven’t hated being up late, it has just broken the routine.  So, here’s to adapting.  Here’s to being thankful that my schedule allows for flexibility.  And, finally, here’s to hoping for a sound sleep.

Proverbs 3:24b

When you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.

My life is an object lesson

~ Kristin ~ 2 Comments

The to-do list is kinda long today.  And, I kinda feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.  It wouldn’t be terrible to crawl right back into bed and read the Jodi Picoult book that I started on Monday.  But, I have been putting off a few things.  I’ve been busy socializing!  So, whether or not I feel up to it, the list has to be attended to today.

I never know when one of these days is going to sneak up on me.  Since I discontinued one of my medications at the end of August, I have actually been doing ok.  I have had a few rough days, a few days when I had to slow down, but for the most part I have done pretty well.  I had almost convinced myself that, you know, I don’t really have an auto-immune disease.  You know, maybe it was all in my head.  Maybe I should, you know, apply for some of those holiday jobs that are being advertised on TV.

Come on, I tell myself, anyone who looks at you can see that you are doing just fine!  You go to the gym, for Pete’s sake.  You look good, girl.  (Just get a different haircut, would you? Justin Bieber has that look trademarked.) Stop your bellyaching and get over it!  It’s the old Kristin way — buck up, take care of this, kick some butts, take some names. I got this!  Exercise, adjust the diet, add the correct supplements, and bam — healed.

And then, I end up on ice. I am doing all the right things and still, it’s not enough. I cannot control this on my own.  

My life is an object lesson. I am a very slow learner.

I cannot do this on my own.  Sure, it’s great to exercise, eat all the right foods, take all the vitamins, blah, blah, blah.  But ultimately, my health is not in my hands. Is it?  If I had a dollar for every time I have written in this blog that ‘I am sitting in the palm of His hand,’  I would no longer even be thinking about looking for employment.  And yet, I still forget and get into my ‘I got this!’ mode.

Now, I am not saying I believe that God gives me the smack-down and puts me on ice to teach me a lesson.  But, let’s be honest, I need a lesson.  If I was my teacher, I would be very frustrated with me.  I actually think God has lifted his hand, with me in it, up close to his face so that he can verify that “Yup, she’s really doing it again.”  And he lovingly smiles and shakes his head and watches while I pull the ice packs out of the freezer and slow myself down enough to say, “I see you.  I hear you.  I do not have this.  You have me.”

So, I’m sitting on ice, looking at my list, getting ready to scratch off one item at a time and try to listen to the still small voice so that I will know when it is time to crawl back into bed with my book and be still and know that He is God and that I am still sitting in the palm of His hand.

Luke 4:40

…all those who had any who were sick with various diseases brought them to Him,

and laying His hands on each one of them, He was healing them.

Shift Happens in the Grace Period

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

So, I do realize, as you may have been wondering, that this grace period is not just a time for me to go out to lunch and chat with friends.  That is a bonus, to be sure, but also, a shift is happening.

I am slowing down.  I had previously underestimated the value of slowing down.  I have been known for being ‘on a mission’.  At the high school where I taught, before I had to give up my heels, my students claimed they could hear me coming down the hall and identify me by my cadence.  I moved, people.  In the five minutes between bells I could descend two flights of stairs, traverse two hallways, use the restroom, make twenty-five copies, and still make it back to my class before my students. I might communicate with ten people within that five minutes, probably disseminating information: get that paper in, see me after school, your book is in the office, tuck your shirt in, get to class. I might also respond to a couple of questions: do we need our book today? will you be here after school? would you unlock my classroom? 

These were all quick exchanges.  Necessary?  Yes.  Deep and life-changing?  Not likely.  That is not to say I didn’t ever have deep and life-changing conversations.  I did, but most of my time was spent on-the-go.

I move pretty slowly these days.  I don’t shout orders when I walk through the campus or the grocery store.  Nobody is regularly coming to me for help.  This shift is making me very observant.  I notice things that I might not have noticed before — there are deer eating leaves outside my window, the leaves are changing colors, I am, and have been, surrounded by amazing people.

I am healing.  Physically, spiritually, and emotionally.  No, I have not experienced a miracle, I still experience the same physical issues — pain, fatigue, and other various minor stuff — but I am learning about things that I can do to improve my health.  I must say that daily exercise is improving the way I feel. I continue to read about and experiment with dietary changes.  And, I am finding a pace that my body appreciates.

I am reconnecting with the word of God on a daily basis and am impressed with its relevance to my life.  I knew this, of course, I just hadn’t been making it a priority.  Seems I had forgotten the seek first the kingdom of God, and all these things will be added to you truth of Scripture.  We heard Carl Madearis speak last night.  His simple passion for sharing the person of Jesus engaged me.  God’s love is powerful and effective.  Period.  I am remembering that and learning again to embrace it.

I am feeling things — great things.  I have been having so much fun talking with people, laughing, listening, sharing.  I may have earlier made it seem like I haven’t had any friends in the past ten or more years, not true.  However, I hadn’t allowed myself to fully invest in friendship in a very long time.  I have guarded my time, my emotions, and myself from others.   I may still be doing that, but I am realizing that with slowing down, I am more available to explore my emotions and actually feel them.

I am listening.  To others, to myself, and to God. I have often told my students ‘God gave you two ears and one mouth; respect the ratio.’  However, I haven’t fully respected the ratio.  I love to talk.  I have a lot to say.  But, so does everyone else.  If I fill up all the spaces with my words, no one else has room to speak.  This is a challenge for me, but blogging is helping.  I am putting a lot of my words on the page, and I don’t feel the need to share as many with my mouth.  This is allowing me to ask more questions and, get this, listen to the answers.  When I close my mouth I can hear others’ hearts.  I can hear my own thoughts.  I can hear the nudgings and proddings of God.

(If you just fist-pumped or said ‘Hallelujah, she is shutting up!’ I won’t judge you.)

So, in all, I highly recommend the grace period. It’s turning out to be life-changing.  I am still looking toward the end, and admittedly scanning the classified ads for positions.  However, I am pretty settled in for the next couple of months to see how I shift and and what God has planned for me in the next chapter. 

“But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,

and all these things will be added to you.”

Matthew 6:33

Being Social

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

Life is weird right now.

The last time I didn’t have a job I had three children at home with me.  They were 8, 9, and 11.  The activities of my life were ordered around their needs and desires.  A typical day would have been structured around three meals at appropriate times, outdoor activities, reading, playing, caring for the house, and personal hygiene.  I didn’t have much wiggle room.  If I wanted to do something without children, I had to do some coordinating with my husband, who was very cooperative, or arrange playdates with friends.

It’s a whole new world in 2014.

Chester doesn’t demand much.  At the moment, he is curled up at my feet under the desk where I am writing.  He’s been feed and watered.  So, now the day is mine to do as I please.  Hmmm.  Interesting.

I have shared that I have established a routine to start my days.  My husband informed me this weekend, in his counselor’s wisdom, that ‘establishing routines is one of the best things you can do during a transition’.  Thanks, dear.  Most days include Bible study, blogging, exercise, reading, my favorite Netflix show, and some socializing.

In order to keep track of how I am doing medically, I have obtained an app that tracks my diet, exercise, social interactions, rest, and symptoms.  Each day I record all the data and the app charts my ‘self-management’ and the ‘arthritis impact’.  It’s actually quite fascinating.  The app has confirmed that I am doing some of the right things to minimize my symptoms, but reminded me that I could be doing more.

One of the most striking realizations from this app is that social interactions are very important to my well-being.  Who knew?  I realized that diet, exercise, rest, and medication played a part, but hanging out with people?  Casually?

For the past ten years, I have squeezed in some socializing on the fringes of my very busy teaching and parenting schedule.  In spite of my combat mode, God did bless me with some great people who met me where I was and endured the ‘current state of affairs’.  I am not sure they would recognize me at the moment.  I joke that I have gone from type AAA to a casual type B.  I used to be at school before 7:00 am, dressed and pressed,  in order to get my ducks in a row. Now it is not rare to find me still in pajamas at noon!  I may have already done my Bible study, blogged, and straightened the house, but I’m still not ready to greet the public.

But today is different!  Today I have not one, but TWO, social engagements!!!  I mean, I’m just trying to improve my health here!  This morning I am meeting a new friend to go walking.  This afternoon I am meeting a dear friend who I haven’t seen in ages!  I know, I know, I was supposed to go grocery shopping and mail a couple of packages, but, guys, it’s for my health!

In all seriousness, I feel so blessed to have this season of transition, this grace period where I have room to breathe, time to think, and freedom to socialize.  I am extra blessed that God has plunked me down in a space where I can connect with friends, new and old.  And, really, the groceries can wait.

I John 4:11

Dear friends, since God loved us,

we also ought to love one another.

Walking, part 2

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

On the heels of sharing the blessings of my aunt, uncle, and my grandparents, I read my Bible study this morning that focused on hindrances that keep us from doing what God has planned for us.

The study looked at three hindrances — others, Satan, and good old numero uno, that’s right, the person in the mirror.

If I’m going to be honest, and by now, you know I am going to be, my chief hindrance has always been … me.  Sure, I have faced human opposition.  Of course, I have experienced spiritual warfare. But really, Satan doesn’t have to spend as much time on me as he does on others, because I create my own issues.

You already know that my biggest hindrance is my belief that I am self-sufficient, battling through all obstacles, kicking butts and taking names. I prefer doing to being, and I often do so much that I don’t listen to others, let alone God.

In spite of this, God has managed to use me for ministry.  It’s usually like an out of body experience when a student or friend comes to me in the middle of my busy-ness, pours out her heart, and asks me for help or prayer.  I think to myself, “Wow, God kinda plunked that down right in front of me, didn’t He.”  He has to be very obvious to get my attention.  There are usually tears involved.  I am aware enough to notice tears. Or, a cluster of frantic teenagers saying something like, “Mrs. Rathje, you have to do something!”  Ok, ok!  You’ve got my attention.

But, in the spirit of the next chapter, I am trying to do things differently.  And, in the spirit of full-disclosure, I must remind you that God fully-orchestrated this next chapter.  He interrupted my busy-ness to bring me to this grace period.  He initiated the chain of events that led me to this Bible study.  He has provided my little house by the river.

And, you know, in the last two months (yes, I have been in Ann Arbor two months!) I have been noticing a lot more. I have been able to hear that still small voice, and have even been willing to listen to it.   I have been able to see the people around me, and notice what is happening in their lives.  I am embarrassed to say that this is a new experience.

When you are in your combat gear, moving at break-neck speed, everyone blurs together.  Yeah.

So, visiting my Uncle Louis and Aunt Margaret, remembering Grandpa and Grandma Meyer, and realizing their commitment to loving God and loving me, I am inspired to shift.  I see the blessings in fully-embracing this next chapter.  I am not sure what all God has planned, but I am willing to watch and see.  I am willing to toss the combat gear.  I am willing to walk into whatever it is that He has set before me.

Hebrews 12: 1

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses,

let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely,

and let us [walk] with endurance the race that is set before us.

Walking

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

I love running.  I didn’t always.  It grows on you.

In my middle school and high school years the only thing I loved about running was when it was over.

But in college, when I was battling an eating disorder, I began to tap into the benefits of running — stress reduction, calorie burning, cardio-vascular health.   I found another benefit when I began to date my future husband.  We ran together.  On our after-school runs (we were both teachers), we would talk and laugh while letting go of the stress from the day, pounding out the miles.

Although I took a break from running while we were raising our children, I started up again when we moved to the seminary.  Again, I found it useful for exercise, stress-busting, and ultimately, bonding with my daughter and many students.  In fact, I was able to run two half-marathons and many 5k races before I had to sideline myself due to fatigue and pain.

Over the years I have connected with Scripture that uses running analogies, ‘they will run and not grow weary’ (Isaiah 40:31), ‘run that you may obtain the prize’ (I Cor. 9:24), ‘let us run with endurance the race marked out for us’ (Hebrews 12:1).  These were images I could relate to.  Running and not getting tired, running and winning a prize, running a race that had been chosen for me.

But to be honest, as you know I have to be, running was part of that soldier mentality that believed that I could do all things through me because of my strength. Yeah, that’s not really scripture.  I am aware.

Probably the knowledge that running would no longer be part of my daily routine was one of the first blows toward destroying that self-reliant attitude that could keep God on the sidelines.  That blow hit hard.  Running had become part of my identity.  I was the ‘teacher who ran’, the ‘mom who ran’, the girl whose heart rate and blood pressure were amazingly low, ‘because she ran’.

Transitioning to walking was a blow.  But ultimately it was the beginning of a slow-down that has changed my entire pace of life, of thinking, of being.

I used to rush to work, rush home, hurry to change so I could run, hurry home so I could make dinner, quickly wash the dishes, take a few minutes to straighten the house, make sure the kids had everything they needed, ‘sleep fast’, as my dad would say, and get up to do it all over again.  I was rushing so much that I didn’t really take time to feel, or process how anyone else was feeling.

I don’t rush very much any more.  I roll out of bed, stumble through my routine, work up to doing Pilates, saunter out for a walk, stop to talk to people in my path, write about my experiences, think, read, feel, rest, sleep. Rinse, repeat. Nothing happens very quickly, but plenty happens.

I have been thankful for this transition, while at the same time being a little sad about it. I mean, I was rocking the running routine.  Even if I was leaving the people that I care about in the dust.

At the moment, I’ve got nothing but time.  So, I am walking.  And this morning, in my Bible study, I was challenged by Paul, Silas, and Timothy to “walk in a manner worthy of God” I Thes. 2: 12. I was reminded that God Himself walked in the Garden of Eden, that Enoch walked with God, and Noah walked with God.  Maybe walking isn’t so bad.  I mean, I have noticed already, that I am not alone.

Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children, and

walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us…

Ephesians 5:1-2

Yowling and oozing

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

Sometimes I look back at what I’ve written and I think, “geez, did you have to be that honest? Nobody wants to hear all that!”  I mean, I sit down at the keyboard and the truth just comes out of me.  I would really like to sugar-coat it a bit.  Really.  But, I used up all my lies by the time I was 18 and I really don’t have any more to tell.  (That’s a story for another day.)

My personality is such that I like to make people laugh…at least when I am in person.  I am somewhat quick-witted (some would say razor-tongued) and the middle child in me likes to be the center of attention.  I like to lighten the mood, set things off-balance, diffuse tension. I am loud.  And a bit obnoxious.

I really wish I could write a funny blog.

But something happens to me when I write.  Especially when I start in God’s Word before I write.  I am compelled to honesty.  Gut-wrenching honesty.  Perhaps  the Word of God, which is living and active and full of grace and truth, compels me toward self-examination and truth.

I was reading my Bible study this morning.  It’s Beth Moore’s Children of the Day, a study of Thessalonians.  She says, “Our freedom comes with the head-on collision between the truth of Christ and God’s truth about us.  There beauty meets ugly, and authenticity is born, yowling like an injured cat freed from a mousetrap” (41).

Guys, I feel like I’ve been ‘yowling like an injured cat freed from a mousetrap’!  I have been reading God’s grace-filled truth,  comparing it with God’s truth about me and trying to absorb both truths for myself…so that I can heal and be authentic with those around me who matter most.

How do you like authentic?

It’s all I’ve got, folks.  At least in my written form.

My in-person form feels more comfortable laughing, but I am finding that the more I share in writing, the less my quick wit stings, and the more it soothes.  Letting the pains from my life ooze out on the page, makes them less likely to spurt out under the guise of humor.

So, let the yowling and oozing continue.  At least for now.  Perhaps someday my blog will make you laugh.  You never know what is going to happen in the next chapter.

Mann tracht und Gott lacht.

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

I woke up exceptionally early this morning, and wasn’t ready to crawl out of bed right away, so I grabbed the book on my nightstand and began to read.  I typically read fiction, even though there is a stack of non-fiction waiting for me.  I prefer an escape into story to any type of reality, but especially to self-help books.  I really don’t want to read about how to manage my finances, what career is best for me in the second half of my life, or how to control my autoimmune disease. 

I want to get lost.  For a little while.  

So, this morning I grabbed Anna Quindlen’s Still Life with Bread Crumbs which I had started last night.  It’s the story of a once-famous photographer who has to re-locate in her 60s in order to gain control of her waning finances in the wake of divorce and decreased popularity.  She is struggling to re-enliven her career and find meaning for her life.  The scene I read this morning ended with her sharing with a new friend a statement that her father often said, “Mann tracht, und Gott lacht.”  Translation, man plans and God laughs.  

I laughed out loud.  God spoke to me through Anna Quindlen’s fiction.  You may think I have lost my mind by now.  And that may be true.  But, if I remember correctly, I finished yesterday’s post with the Scripture, “Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but the Lord’s purpose prevails.” I plan, God laughs.  I plan, God directs.  He wants me to get it through my thick skull. He is God and I am not. 

I had lunch with a new friend yesterday.  Among the many things we discussed, we touched on how to find purpose and meaning at this season of our lives — you know, middle age.  How should we use our time?  What should we commit to? 

Later, on a walk with my husband, it came up again.  When I say yes to something, I say no to something else.  If I say yes to a full-time teaching position, I say no to most everything else.  If I say yes to working days, I say no to lunch dates.  If I say yes to a PhD program, I say no to reading much fiction.  

I am figuring and planning; God is laughing.  He knows the plans he has for me. Plans to prosper me and not to harm me.  Plans for good and not for evil.  (Jeremiah 29:11) His laughter is the gentle laughter of a parent saying, “Calm down, little one, I’ve got it under control. I know what you need before you ask.” 

For now, I believe, He has called me to rest and be still.  He will reveal what is next when it is time for what is next. 

In the mean time, I will be reading fiction and being pleasantly surprised when He uses even that to remind me that He’s got me in the palm of His hand. 

Isaiah 46:4

Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you.

I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.

I come for healing, Re-visit

~ Kristin ~ 6 Comments

Today is Move-in Day at this place we call home. Thirty-four years ago, I was moving in as a student; just over five years ago, I moved in as the wife of the Dean of Students. Both times I’m shown up on this campus, I’ve been just a bit broken, and both times this space has provided the time, the resources, and the community in which I find healing. I wrote this post in on August 3, 2014, when I thought my biggest problem was my health. As I revisit it today, I wonder at God’s ability to see the bigger issues and provide a space for me to be held through difficulties yet unknown to me.

Nestled beside the Huron River is a small school — Concordia University. (You can see the chapel amid the trees in the photo.) The school was started in the 1960s by the Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod, mainly to prepare young people for service in the church. The chapel sits in the heart of its campus. Christ is at the heart of its mission.  

And we get to be here! My husband is the Dean of Students, so we live right on campus as part of the community. This beautiful scene is in my backyard!

I have lived here before, as a student, back in the ’80s. The place is familiar, to be sure, but the experience is brand new. I came as a teenager before. Now, I come as an empty-nester. Big difference.  

One thing is the same, though. I am here to heal.  

This time I am coming to heal from several hectic years topped off with a diagnosis of autoimmune disease. Last time I came after an overwhelming freshman year of college topped off with an eating disorder. Both times, God intervened and brought me to this place to heal.

I still can’t explain what happened in 1985 — how I left a Big Ten university in the middle of Michigan to pay more at a small private college in Ann Arbor, but I know it saved my life — my physical and my spiritual life. It put me on a path to wellness. 

The other day, when I was walking along the Huron and glanced across to see the chapel, something clicked in my mind. Last year, we were not looking to move back to Michigan. My husband was not looking for a higher ed position. But God used his people to step into our situation and bring us here to Concordia. And, again, I am on a path to wellness.  

For over three years in the 1980s I felt held at Concordia while I sorted out the issues of my eating disorder. It was an emotionally chaotic time, to be sure, but I felt held — held by Christian friends who saw me, held by faculty who noticed and cared for me, held by the school nurse who pointed me toward help, and held, ultimately, by God.  

So, coming back to Concordia feels secure, safe, comforting. Again, I feel held.  I’ve only been here a week, but I feel at peace. Knowing the healing I experienced here in the ’80s gives me great hope. I am looking forward to healing again. I am believing God’s words through Jeremiah that “[God] will heal [me] and will let [me] enjoy abundant peace and security” Jeremiah 33:6.  

Certainly I don’t think this healing can only happen at Concordia. Or next to the Huron River. But I do believe that healing comes only through God. And that, for me, He has done that here at Concordia.  

I am here for healing.